Title: Workaholics Anonymous
Rating: G
Discription: Challenge: New years resolutions. Write a fic that uses a resolution as its driving force. Focus on a character for whom things go terribly wrong due to a flaw, whether simply perceived or actual, that he/she decides has to go. Include the phrase, "That's it! Never again!" or words to that effect.

"Sorry, Han," Leia spoke into her comlink, her husband listening on the other end. "I can't this time." She cringed, looking down at her desktop, not really seeing the piles of paperwork there, but rather the disappointed look she imagined would be on his face.

"Dammit, sweetheart," came his filtered sigh after a moment. "Why not?"

She fiddled nervously with a strand of her hair that had come loose from her updo. "I still haven't finished my report," she responded, then added again, "I'm sorry."

"Sure," he said tersely, and she envisioned him pacing restlessly. After a long silence, he spoke up again. "I'll just see you later, then."

"Han, wait," she exclaimed before he could disconnect. "Please, you know I can't just leave." At this point, she had stood up and began pacing.

He sighed again, this time sounding defeated. "I'm not gonna have this argument again, hon," he said quietly. "I'm tired of it."

Something in his voice put Leia on edge. Her heart began to race and she suddenly felt cold. "Han?" she ventured, almost afraid to speak, and sat back down at her desk.

He was quiet for a few seconds, perhaps debating on what he should do or say. Then, finally, "I'll let you go now. I'll see you later." He paused, then murmured sincerely, "I love you, sweetheart."

Leia wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not. "Okay," she said on a sigh. "I love you, too."

"Bye." The comm shut off.

She let out a long sigh. "What am I doing?" she asked herself, turning in her chair to look out the window behind her. Han put up with her crazy schedule for so long without complaint, but lately it was proving to be too much for him to accept. She had to agree, it was driving her crazy too, but what could she do? This was her job. She knew she owed him a lot. But, could she really just pick up and leave her work for a personal evening? How self-centered did that sound? Then again, when was her last personal evening? She couldn't remember. Maybe the New Republic-in-the-works owed her one too.

"Could it really hurt?" she wondered out loud. With a husband and hopefully a family on the way, she would have to figure out a better way to balance work and home. A family. Oh, how she wanted a family. A nice, big one too. But, not if she was going to spend every waking hour in the office or on missions. Maybe she could leave, then get to work a little earlier in the morning. It's not like the report was going anywhere.

"That's it!" she announced standing up. "Never again." She put on her coat and headed for the door. Now, what could she do to make it up to Han?

***

Leia strode through the hangar bay armed with a blanket and a basket filled with rice, greens, steak, fruit and her husband's favorite brandy. She was going to make it up to him.

Reaching the Falcon, she walked up the ramp and began her search for her husband. It didn't take long; he was in the cockpit working on some circut board there. After a moment's hesitation (and admiration of this particular angle she was viewing him in), she cleared her throat to catch his attention.

He jumped and spun around, a tool in hand. Upon seeing his wife, a grin lit up his face. "Hey there," he offered, unable to keep his delight out of his voice. He set the tool down and tried to clean his hands by wiping them on his shirt. "What happened to that report of yours?"

She watched him sheepishly. "You're more important than any report," she told him honestly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that sooner. I've got to learn how to prioritize."

Han looked at her, his smile softening. "Come here," he murmured, holding his arms out.

More than willing to oblige, she set down the blanket and basket and stepped into his embrace. "I am sorry, Han," she whispered against the fabric of his shirt. Soiled as it was, she found it comforting. "Thanks for putting up with me."

He caressed her back, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Baby, I couldn't live without you," he whispered back. He gestured toward the objects on the deck. "What's all this?"

"Our dinner," she explained, looking up at him. "What do you say? Want to have a picnic in the park?"

Han raised a hand to his chin, considering her offer. "Well...I kinda have a lot of work to do...."

Leia interrupted him by slapping him upside the head. "You're such a nerfherder, you know that?"

Han grinned. "I know." He proceeded to pick up their belongings, and took his wife's hand in his own. As they strode out of the ship, he questioned, "You didn't cook this, did you?"

"Oww!!"

"Nerfherder."

End